


Foolish

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal and Wyldon argue about which of them made the other one look foolish. One thing leads to another. Kel and Yuki observe. (Another "just to see if I can" fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foolish

“Queenscove!” came a familiar voice, as Lord Wyldon barged into the tent.

“My lord.” Neal bowed, then stood up straight and attempted to look respectful – as much as possible, when he was stripped to his loincloth, the better to sponge dirt and sweat off his bruised, aching body.

“What was that?” Wyldon demanded.

“Sir?”

“That miserable attempt at –"

“A joust. Sir.”

“What?”

“That was a joust.” The former training master studied the young knight, looking for some sign that this was a joke. Neal's gaze was steady. “I lost,” he added.

Wyldon laughed, a short bark of a sound. “You lost to a first-year squire.”

“A squire who is the nephew of Keladry of Mindelan, and being trained in tilting by Lord Raoul,” Neal explained. These factors lessened his shame, but not enough.

The older man seemed to agree. “Why did you joust with him in the first place?”

Neal sighed, looking down as he mumbled an answer.

“What was that?” Wyldon demanded, stepping closer.

“Owen dared me to,” Neal repeated, just audible.

Wyldon raised a sardonic eyebrow, silently asking for more information.

Neal shrugged. There wasn't any more to it than that.

“Nealan of Queenscove,” Wyldon growled, gripping Neal's shoulders. “Are you trying to make me look foolish!?”

Neal blinked in surprise. “I think I'm the one who looks foolish.”

“Gods' teeth!” Wyldon snapped, shaking Neal. “I've spent five years bragging about your accomplishments, and you go and lose to a first-year squire! Don't enter a match you can't win. Didn't I teach you anything? Didn't Alanna teach you anything?”

Neal brought his hands up, gripping the other man's arms to try and stop the shaking. “My accomplishments?” he asked, incredulous.

“'I taught Queenscove,' I'd tell people. 'Took a university boy and made him into a damn passable knight.'” Wyldon's fingers dug into Neal's flesh. “'I can teach anyone.' But apparently not well enough.”

Almost laughing, Neal asked, “University boy?” Then, angry, “Passable knight?”

“That was before I saw you joust today,” Wyldon explained, eyes flicking downward in exasperation.

“Maybe,” Neal snapped, leaning closer, “you should have taught me better.”

Wyldon looked up, because glancing down reminded him how nearly-naked the other knight was. Looking up, though, he was startled to find just how close together they were. “Maybe I still could,” he said, voice tight.

“Could you?” Neal asked, a smile slowly spreading over his face. He was the one who'd shamed his teacher, and he was the one in his underclothes. But somehow, it seemed that he now had the upper hand.

He wasn't about to waste it.

.

Dusk was falling as Kel and Yuki made their way back to the tent Yuki shared with her husband. The flap was not quite closed, and Yuki stopped just outside, one hand on the thick canvas. She blinked astonished eyes, then reached back and grabbed Kel's hand. There was both urgency and stealth in her movements.

Kel moved cautiously forward, stretching to her full height so she could look above her shorter friend's head. When she saw the tableau inside the tent, she gasped once, then willed herself to silence.

Neal faced away from the tent flap, clad only in a loincloth. Wyldon, facing him, remained mostly dressed, but his rumpled tunic was on the ground. One of his arms was wrapped around Neal's naked waist, indecently low. His other hand was out of sight. Neal pressed one large hand to Wyldon's cheek, fingertips touching evening stubble.

As Yuki and Kel watched, the two men kissed, lips interlocking. Their breathing was audible even at the edge of the tent. They turned slightly, Wyldon's face disappearing from view as Neal's hair fell across his cheek. Yuki's squeezed Kel's fingers, leaning back against her friend as though her knees had gone weak. Automatically, Kel wrapped her free arm around Yuki's waist.

Wyldon sat down on the cot – heavily, as though Neal had pushed him. He was facing the tent flap, but his eyes closed as Neal kissed his face and then his neck. Neal lifted the hem of Wyldon's shirt, pulling the garment over the other man's head.

As one, Kel and Yuki gasped again, confronted with the view of two mostly-bare men.

Wyldon's eyes snapped open, and for a tiny fraction of a second, he and Kel were looking directly at one another.

Kel hauled Yuki away from the tent flap, disentangled herself from her friend, and started toward her own tent.

“What in the world –?” Yuki began, trailing after her.

Kel stopped. “I don't think we could watch anymore without giving ourselves away.” She looked at Yuki, gaze level. “It's your husband in there,” she said. “Your call. Do you want to go back and put a stop to it?”

Yuki pulled out her fan, snapping it open. Above its rim, though, she was looking back at Kel. “Let's leave them to it. I think we could find some other way to amuse ourselves.”

“In my tent, perhaps?” Kel suggested, voice low.

Behind her fan, Yuki looked down, then up again. “Perhaps,” she said. “Strictly in the interest of fairness, of course.”


End file.
